The Kryptonian Identity
by Window Raindrops
Summary: A girl falls from the sky with no recollection of her memories. In the search for her past, she uncovers a deep conspiracy involving a covert government operation that will stop at nothing to silence the truth. An Alternate Universe fic based on the Bourne trilogy.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: As the summary states, this is heavily based on the Bourne movies (but only the original three). If you haven't watched them yet, I strongly recommend it; They're some of the best action movies ever made.**

* * *

It's funny how someone's life can change in an instant. In one single moment that steers their course into uncharted territory. You might not realize that such an event can be so momentous while it's happening. You get caught in the whirlwind; too confused and disoriented to think anything else than _stay here. Focus on the now._

So, you do just that; it's the most you can do anyways. Taking it one scene at a time, one day at a time, one minute at a time. You don't know where this new path will take you. For now, you're just content to stay where you are and let the currents do their thing. Eventually, you start to fall into a routine. The path is now familiar. The storm is comforting. Then, the waves grow too high for the ship to handle and the creaking and splintering of the wooden body of the ship becomes too deafening to ignore. It is only when the ship is violently ripped out from under your feet, you truly grasp how much your life has changed.

In the case of one Alexandra Danvers, her moment occurs on a stormy Wednesday night. More specifically, it occurs in the form of a girl with golden locks who plummeted from the sky.

She sits on her backyard porch, legs swinging as she watches the storm unfold. She leans back with one hand clutching a beer bottle and the other planted by her side for balance. In the distance, flashes of lighting dominate the sky, allowing her to steal glimpses of the choppy waters that lay ahead. The wind chimes are singing at an erratic pace.

Alex takes a swig of her beer, relishing the cold sensation. She lets her mind go blank and just merely listens to the howling of the storm and the thunderous chorus of the sky as an appreciative observer. In the time between the lightening strikes, she manages to finish her beer and sets it down to her side, intending to pick it up when she retires for the night.

A brilliant flash. Then after a few beats, a ground shaking boom. The redhead catches a glimpse of her flailing boat tied to the dock, helpless against the constant onslaught of the vicious waves. If the rest of the storm season is anything like this then she might have to reinvest in some stronger rope, lest the boat drift off into the unforgiving sea without its captain. Alex didn't imagine herself, when she started college, to be here back in Midvale, fishing and boating everyday when the weather allowed her to do so. But after her undergraduate degree, couple of rather unsuccessful relationships, and medical school, she didn't have a clue on what to pursue. The logical next step for many would be residency or internship at a local hospital, but for Alex, it just didn't feel right. Even though she quite enjoyed her classes in medical school, she wasn't sure that becoming a doctor was the best choice of action for her. She couldn't place it then and she certainly can't place it now, but there was something about the profession that made her wary, despite the fact that her mother is a doctor.

So here she is, empty beer bottles, warm days out on the boat, and helping her mother at the hospital when she needed the extra hands. It isn't the life she had originally envisioned for herself, but for now, she's content.

The rain comes down harshly, and Alex can feel the sting of the occasional raindrop that catches her skin. Her shoulder length auburn hair whips across her face. She tries to push it aside, but to avail. After a few tries, she gives up, resting both of her hands in her lap.

Another flash. Alex is staring mindlessly into the sea when she sees it: a projectile plummeting from the heavens. It's only a glimpse, but she could vaguely make out the silhouette of _something_ falling towards the icy waters below. And what ever it is, it is falling fast. A blinding lightening strike illuminates the skies once again, just long enough for Alex to catch the projectile making impact with the water with an enormous splash.

She leans in, trying to get a better view. She can't find it for a few seconds, due to the limited lighting that only occurs briefly.

 _There. Is that…? Oh fuck, is that a person?_

Immediately, she springs into action, grabbing a poncho that was resting on the deck chair before rushing out towards the dock.

The rain droplets prick her skin, causing her to shield her face with her arm. She stumbles a little because of the sharp decline in elevation, but she manages to make her way down to the dock intact.

Alex climbs in and fumbles with the rope tethering the boat. Her hands don't work as well as they normally do given the freezing conditions. Any colder, and the rain might turn into ice crystals. Once the boat of free of any restraints, Alex turns the key in the ignition, but the engine only splutters. She gives it another try, and she is met with several whines and coughs from the engine.

"Work, you old piece of shit," she commands, turning the key once again. Miraculously, the engine springs to life after much complaint. Alex wipes off the water from her face and looks out to the ominous seas for the person she had seen. The weather isn't helping, as the light isn't nearly enough to guide her to her target and the waves are as disorienting as ever. Nevertheless, she sets off into the darkness.

She trains her eye ahead, looking for the figure that seemingly dropped out of the sky. She squints, focusing, waiting, watching. Once in a while, she has to grab on to the side of the boat just to keep herself afloat and out of the water. If she doesn't find whoever she's looking for soon, she very well could join them in the icy waters. The ship has served her well thus far, but it is getting up their in years. There's no telling if it could hold out for much longer and endure any more of the punishing waves.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," Alex mumbles, anxious to get back to solid ground. "Where the hell are you?"

A couple of seconds later and she is seriously starting to doubt if she had seen anybody at all. She always believed herself as someone who could hold her liquor, but things could start to get a bit hazy after her fourth bottle. Had she just imagined it? She's out in the middle of a thunderstorm, for crying out loud. It's entirely within the realm of possibility that she just mistook something entirely different as a human and rushed out here for no reason. She is briefly contemplating heading back to shore when she sees it.

 _Just up ahead._

The body is about fifty yards to her right, unmoving and completely at the mercy of the waves. She carefully maneuvers the boat just near the body, but not too close to risk a collision. She drops the anchor and put the boat in reverse. It's not ideal, but it's the best she can do in these conditions to keep still.

Looking around the boat, Alex searches for a tool to help her pull the body towards the boat. She curses herself for not planning ahead and acting recklessly. In a moment of clarity, she remembers the fishing net with an extendable rod that she had bought the day before.

It's hard work, and her dexterity is challenged by having to pull a full adult body with a lengthy, flexible aluminum rod. After minutes of effort, she manages to get the body in a position where she can reach down and pull it up by hand. She is surprised by how heavy the body is. It might be due to the fact their clothes had soaked up water, but as far as Alex can tell, the vague outline of the body shouldn't warrant such a hefty load.

"Jesus, what the hell did you eat for breakfast?" She grumbles, grunting from the straining muscles.

Once the body is dragged onto the boat safely, Alex gets a clear glimpse of the face that belongs to the mysterious body. It's a _girl_. Not a woman. But an actual girl. She can't have been more than 22 years old. Recovering from her initial shock, she checks for a pulse.

 _Faint. But still there._

Alex checks over the rest of the body to make sure that the girl's bones are at least underneath the skin. It's hard to be sure, since she is wearing some kind of a tight full body swimsuit, but it'll do for now. She hoists the anchor back up and speeds towards the shore, eager to get out of this godforsaken storm as fast as possible.

Once the boat is tied down again, Alex rushes towards the house, half carrying and dragging the girl over to her house. She slams open the door and clears the dining room table, pushing aside anything that occupied the space. She somehow manages to lift the girl up to the table all by herself even in her current exhausted state.

"Mom? I need some help!" She yells, hoping she conveyed the urgency of the situation. Her mother appears a few seconds later, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she descends the stairs.

"Alex, what's wrong? Who is that on the dining room table?" She rushes over to her daughter's side.

"I don't know, but I fished her out of the ocean after I saw her fall from the sky."

"Fall from the sky?" She asks incredulously. "Honey, no one can survive that."

"Well, she did," Alex defended, gesturing to the still body. "Check her pulse." Her mother's eyebrows furrow in concern.

"If she did fall from that great of a height, then she is very lucky to be alive. I don't know how she is breathing right now, but I guess miracles do happen sometimes. Alex, grab some scissors and help me get her suit off." She obliges and hands a pair to her mother when she notices distinct holes and burn marks on the suit.

"Are those bullet holes?"

"I think so. We should act fast before she gets an infection from the open wounds." The two Danvers women work in silence and with deliberation, only speaking when they need certain tools. After the suit is peeled away, they can see the multiple rounds embedded in her skin. The girl is riddled with bullets, some lodged in her arm, her leg, her stomach, and her back. The suit must have been made out of Kevlar or some similar material as the bullets didn't have enough force to push straight through. _Why would someone as young as you have bullet wounds?_

When it's all said and done, they manage to extract all eight bullets from the girl's body. They suture all open wounds and clean any blood that spilled on to her skin. Alex examines the girl once again, noting how toned and muscular she is despite her relatively thin frame. There are multiple scars, some raking over her entire body. They are faded and distant, but still maintain their rope like feature. She is drawn to a particular scar on her hip. It seems more recent than the others, fresh and red. It's barely half an inch in length. It's nothing out of the ordinary, except that it's protruding far too much for it to be just a natural scar. She grabs a scalpel and cuts in. She pulls out a metal capsule.

"What is that?" Her mother asks.

"I don't know. It's embedded into her hip, though." She stiches the girl back up and places the capsule on a cloth, wiping away the blood. Alex turns towards her mother. "What should we do with her?"

"Well, I'd like to get her in for some scans first thing in the morning, and check for any signs of internal damage. She's stable now, but considering her fall and wounds, it'd be good to make sure."

"Should I get the guest bedroom ready?"

With a jolt, the girl on the table suddenly sits up, gasping for breath. She coughs in between breaths, and her eyes are wide in fear and confusion. Alex sets a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, take it easy. Deep breaths. You're safe now, can you understand me?" The girl nods, tears involuntarily falling out the corners of her eyes. Alex looks the girl in the eyes and holds her steady. Her breathing begins to even out, feeling more comfortable by each passing second. "We found you in the ocean and you had some injuries, but we patched you up. Do you remember how you ended up in the ocean?" She speaks slowly, careful to not overwhelm the girl anymore than she already is.

The girl shakes her head vigorously. More tears threaten to spill out.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, we can come back to that. My name is Alex Danvers. Can you tell me your name?"

The girl's voice is hoarse and shaky.

"I, I don't know. I don't remember."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Truthfully, after hearing about what transpired at Comic Con, I didn't think I could muster up the motivation to write for awhile. But for reasons I will explain in the notes at the end of the chapter I decided to keep writing. I can't emphasize enough how much I enjoy Supercorp, and while I understand and agree with some fans' reasoning, it'll be sad to see a portion of the fans leave the fandom.

So without further ado, here is chapter 2. Make sure to stick around for the end of chapter notes. Thank you all. -WR

* * *

Alex walks into the guest bedroom, with a glass of water in her hands. The girl is seated at the edge of the bed, wearing an old college hoodie and sweatpants. They are a bit long for her, but she doesn't seem to mind. Her golden hair is no longer filled with knots thanks to a hot shower she took. There's a faint vibration in her hands as she tries to calm herself after the initial shock.

"Here's a glass of water." The girl graciously accepts the offering. When her fingers close around the cup, the glass shatters in her hands. Its contents spill on the floor.

"Oh god. I'm, I'm so sorry." She stands and frantically searches the room. "I'll get a towel or something—" The redhead lays a hand on the girl's shoulder, leading her back on the bed.

"No, stay here. I got it." Alex reassures her. She looks over her guest's hands, forehead creased in worry. "Are your hands okay? No cuts or anything?"

"I don't think so."

"Okay, I'll be right back." Alex returns with a towel and a broom. The girl insists that she help clean up the mess, but she refuses the help. When the mess is cleaned up, she comes back with another cup of water. This time, the cup is plastic. The girl is extra careful to not break this one, even if she couldn't.

Alex takes a seat right besides the girl.

"So…" She starts. "Do you remember anything? Any thing at all?"

"No. I can't—I can't remember who I am, or where I was born, or who my parents are, or how I ended up in the water, or, or," She stammers. Her eyes were close to spilling tears again. Alex reaches out and wraps her in a tight hug. The girl lets out a sob, which leads Alex to rub circles on her back for comfort.

"It'll come back. Take as much time you need."

The girl's trembling fingers grip the back of Alex's shirt, and she can feel some strands stretching and breaking off. When they part, the tears have mostly subsided except for some sniffles here and there. They sit in silence comfortably, just content to have each other's presence. Alex then remembers the odd capsule that she had found earlier embedded in the girl's hip and digs it out of her pocket.

"I almost forgot." Alex holds it out in front of her and the girl eyes it curiously. "I found this under your skin while I was patching you up." The girl takes the capsule and rolls it between her fingers, inspecting it carefully.

"Under my skin?"

"Yeah, it was implanted in you or something." Then, without warning, the capsule begins to emit laser powered light. Projected on to the wall, it reads: NATIONAL CITY BANK 000-7-17-12-0-14-26.

"That must be a bank account number." Alex notes, eyes fixated on the wall. "Why would that be in your hip?" She wonders aloud, knowing that even if the girl knows, she most likely doesn't remember. They are both taken out of their thoughts when the girl's stomach growls like a lawn mower. Alex lets out a laugh, her nose crinkling. The girl can only stare at her feet in embarrassment.

"Hungry?" She nods. "Come on, I'll make you some pancakes." Her eyes light up at the mention of food.

* * *

The next day, Alex drives for three hours to National City with the girl in the passenger's seat. They leave later in the morning after Eliza runs some MRI and CT scans, off the record of course. She had no identification and no health insurance to speak of, and given the situation, it seemed imperative that the girl had some scans done just to be sure of her health. Surely, two quick scans at dawn wouldn't hurt anybody.

It turns out, the girl's in perfect health.

"Incredible," Eliza breathes out; her eyes trained on the monitors, the CT scan on one screen and the MRI on the other. "She fell from the sky and nothing. She's practically the healthiest twenty-something I've ever seen in my life. Well, except for the bullet wounds."

They leave for National City soon after. Right after the girl inhales another batch of pancakes because she is starving again and, "oh my god, Alex, you make the best pancakes."

"Do you remember past pancakes you've had?"

"Um…no." She pauses mid bite with a forkful in hand. "But I'm like 99% positive that these are the best I've eaten even if I could remember." Alex pours another batch on to the frying pan, a smirk on her face.

After her second breakfast, the girl is eager to climb into Alex's beat up Subaru. She nods her head to the beat of the music that plays from the radio and even picks up on the lyrics to some of the songs that repeat. Alex had never noticed how often radio stations replay popular songs until she hears the girl belting out song after song after the first hour. She seems to be a big fan of _I Feel It Coming_ , even doing a little dance when the chorus hits. Normally, Alex would be annoyed by the distractions while she's driving, but for some reason, she can't help but smile and occasionally sing along with her.

Alex pulls into the parking lot across the street from National City Bank. Once she puts the car in park, she turns towards the girl.

"Okay, the bank is just across the street from us. Do you want me to come with or do you want to go alone?"

"I think I'll go alone. Thanks for the offer, though."

"No problem, kid. I'll be right here when you're done."

It's half past noon when the girl towards the bank. The street is fairly busy with pedestrians and drivers alike rushing for their lunch breaks.

It's loud. Louder than she expected.

The incessant honking from some of the cars, businessmen and women talking frantically into their phones, trying to schedule a last minute meeting or meet a project deadline. Dozens, if not hundreds, of pairs of shoes clicking in their own respective rhythms. The distant wail of sirens and screeching of tires blocks away. Leaves bristling in the light summer breeze.

It's all too much.

She can't focus on one particular sound. Her brain is moving too fast to register each individual sound separately. They're all distinct, and the girl can recognize them as such, but at this point, they all just melding into a constant drone. Her world spins a turn, and her axis tilts ever so slightly. She looks back at the car and sees Alex frowning, probably debating if she should go help her or not. The girl flashes a bright smile and gives her a thumbs up. She faces the street once again and takes a deep breath. _Just block it out. You'll be indoors in a few seconds._

She waits for the light to turn and starts walking, each step more confident than the last. Within a couple of seconds, she's at the doors of the bank. She steps inside, letting the sense of overwhelming relief wash over her as the cool air hits her face.

The bank lobby is expansive, with marble flooring and massive Doric columns spaced throughout. Before she understands what's she's doing, the girl makes note of the seven security guards that are on duty: two by the glass automatic doors next to the bank tellers, two by the entrance which she just passed through, one on each side of the stairs in the northeast corner of the lobby, and one stationed right outside the elevator. Each of them is equipped with a standard issue walkie-talkie and Smith and Wesson M&P 9s. There are four tellers window currently open, but the fifth window will soon reopen once the teller who left glazed donut crumbs on his desk finishes washing his hands in the men's bathroom. Once she is situated at the center of the lobby, it'll take her approximately five seconds to reach the nearest exit and an extra seven seconds if she needs to disarm a guard. However, from the center of the lobby, the nearest guard, with his build and presumed weight will be running about 4.3 miles per hour slower than her maximum speed that she can reach in four strides from a dead stop. Accounting for the extra 0.7 seconds that the security guard needs to assess and react to the situation, there is a good chance that she could make it out untouched, if she needed to. But why would she? This is just an ordinary stop at a bank right? _And how the heck did she just think of all that? And why?_

Surprisingly, there are no lines at this time of day. So, she heads over to the near teller window without much trouble.

"Welcome to National City Bank. How can I help you?"

"Uh yes. I have an account here? I'd like to access it."

"Of course. And what is the account number?"

"0007171201426." She doesn't miss a beat.

"Thank you, right this way, ma'am." The teller stands and leads her through the automatic glass doors. The girl nods nervously at the guards nearby in acknowledgement. They reach an elevator, and they travel up to the third floor. She steps out of the elevator and takes a few more steps but is stopped by a balding man in a grey suit. The girl looks to him in confusion. The man gestures to a screen to his left.

"Your hand, please."

"Oh, right. Of course." She places her hand on the screen and the device scans her fingertips and palm for prints. After what seems like an eternity, the security system lets her through, having identified her as a registered client of the bank.

She is then led to a small, almost cramped space concealed by a red certain. A few moments later, and the teller hands her a metal case, wordlessly. And she walks away, leaving the girl to herself. She closes the curtain, yanking it twice more for assurance of her privacy. Her hands hover above the case, unsure of what she'll find in there. _Well, time to find out._

She unlocks the latches and the top cover flips open, revealing an assortment of items: several daily use contact lenses, a small flashlight, an American Express Centurion card, a watch which seems to have run out of battery, a couple of pens, and most importantly, a passport. An _American_ passport.

"Okay, so I am American. That's nice to know." She mutters under her breath. She scans through the pages, looking for her personal information. When she reaches the page, she is faced with a headshot of herself staring back with a blank expression.

 _Surname: Bourne_

 _Given names: Kara_

She takes a moment to sit down, processing the information she just received. _My name is Kara. That's a start._ There's a pink slip of paper peeking out on the edges of the passport, stashed in one of the later pages. It's an identification paper, written in French.

 _Domicile: 104 Rue du Jardin 75005 Paris_

"And I live in Paris?" She wonders aloud, folding the paper back up and placing both the passport and identification paper back in the case. As her fingers touch the felt lining inside, she notices that there is another compartment below. The tray lifts easily enough and the contents inside make her pause. Her breath catches in her throat.

Underneath the tray, she finds several passports of different nationalities, stacks of bills in euros, pesos, dollars, francs, yen, and pounds, and on top of it all, a pistol. A Sig Sauer P226, by the looks of it. Kara searches through the passports to realize that they're all hers with the same picture as the one in her American passport but with different names. In addition to Kara Bourne, she is also a Sofia Guarneri from Italy, a Valentina Torres from Argentina, and an Alisa Fedorov from Russia, among others. There is even another placeholder card for another American passport that belongs to a Catherine Kane. She looks around, unsure if she had dropped it, but the passport belonging to Catherine Kane is nowhere to be found.

 _Why do I have all of these passports? And a gun? And these stacks of bills… Just who the hell am I?_

She makes a snap decision and grabs the complimentary bag from under the table. She stuffs the passports in along with the cash. There isn't much organization as she just mainly dumps all of her belongings into the red bag. The last thing she packs is the gun.

With everything accounted for, she slings the bag over her shoulder and heads out, climbing back into the elevator. As the doors close, she notices one of the attendants staring at her intensely. His gaze is unwavering, and it sends chills down Kara's spine. In the split second before the doors close for good, she barely catches the man reach for his earpiece. With the noise of the elevator, she doesn't pick up on what he says.

"Asset located at National City Bank. Treadstone priority one. Visual confirmation on Kara Bourne."

* * *

 **A/N:** Including the comments from some of the cast members of Supergirl I found their Comic Con presentation to be incredibly disappointing. I have to admit, it was very upsetting, knowing the impact those comments could have on LGBT folks even though I only consider myself as a mere ally. It was disheartening to say the least. So much so that I considered quitting writing fics all together. But then I remembered why I write these stories. I write them for myself. And if at the end of the day, if I'm proud of my work and enjoying myself, then I shouldn't let those comment deter me from doing what I like.

On a related note, I was very underwhelmed by the season 3 trailer and noticed that it didn't seem very... Supergirl. Personally, I relate to Kara a lot, so the character as a very special place in my heart. And to see her story arc get muddled like that and steer away from what makes Kara so great didn't sit well with me. It's almost as if the writers missed out on the core of who Kara is as a character.

So, I've decided to write a series of connected one-shots that will allow me to really explore Kara's storyline and who she is. I have a tumblr that you can submit prompts to: .com

I'm very excited for this project and hope you are too. Also, last thing (I promise!), is that I also have a Harry Potter OC fic if you're into that. Would mean a lot if you checked it out. You guys mean the world to me. Thanks for reading. -WR


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm not dead, I promise! Here's an update, sorry for the delay. As always, reviews are always welcome!**

* * *

 **Two months later**

Alex always had been a big fan of routines. It was what drew her to medical school in the first place apart from her love of science. After awhile, you start to get used to the monotonous schedule: lectures, labs, problem sets, et cetera. But her first two months living with Kara were anything but predictable.

The girls went on countless spur of the moment excursions dictated by Kara's seemingly insatiable appetite. Most days, it was random. Pizza one day, burgers the next, or sticky buns at 2 AM, to name a few. However, potstickers soon became a recurring theme in the Danvers household once Kara had become obsessed with them after their first Chinese takeout day.

During car rides, Kara would often point out dogs in neighboring cars or on the street and dote on them for the next twenty minutes, often recounting, "Alex, did you see how cute and button-y his nose was? He was so adorable! I need him, Alex! Is it weird if you just slowed down a bit so I can stare at him for a couple more minutes?" It was a far cry from her normal silent car rides Alex had grown accustomed to, but she always gave in. She couldn't find it within herself to say no to those puppy dog eyes that Kara donned so often.

It was never a dull day at the Danvers household ever since Kara quite literally dropped out of the sky.

Alex shouldn't have thought today would be any different.

The sticky, humid summer air had given way to the soft, yet biting autumn winds. The leaves were well into their transition to warmer colors. In the sprawling backyard of the Danvers household, critters of all shapes and sizes were scurrying to stockpile whatever food they could find before the long, harsh winter.

A little over half a mile into the sea, Alex was checking her last traps and lines. Her hands were roughly calloused now, after months of hard labor. In the first couple of weeks into her new profession (She never intended on it being her full time job, but it pays the bills, so she can't complain), her hands were covered with raging blisters and her muscles ached with every subtle movement. But not anymore. Little by little, Alex had become accustomed to new life, mentally and physically. Her routine.

When she was completely satisfied with her handiwork, she leaned back and stretched, arms reaching for clouds that once dotted the skies in the midsummer heat. The coming weeks would be crucial to her business. Soon winter would descend without much warning and the fish would seek residence in the ocean floor, instinctually drawn to the warmth that all living things so desire. But it was also a time when the fish were more eager to search for food. There was much work to be done.

This morning, she had sent Kara over to Metropolis to buy stronger lines and new nets. The girl was proving herself to be great help to Alex; She was every bit as strong as her toned physique had suggested. Kara was more than eager to join Alex in her work, claiming, "it's the least I can do."

"Kara, no. You fell out of the sky, for fuck's sake! You need to rest." She crossed her arms for emphasis.

"I'm fine. _Eliza_ said I'm fine. Let me help." Kara pleaded with her sparkling blue eyes. "Just think of it as my way of repaying you for all the food I've eaten since I came here." _Damn her and her puppy dog pout._

As it turns out, Kara definitely didn't need the rest. She pulled hefty, waterlogged net out of the sea by herself with ease. Tossed cages farther than Alex thought was humanly possible. Hauled in forty pound fish like it was nothing. More often than not, Alex just stood there dumbfounded.

She wasn't just brawn, however. Within a week, Kara had accurately plotted their course and pointed out the inefficiencies in the routes and methods Alex had been employing. Alex was catching more fish than she ever dreamed of and in record time. Kara was incredibly inexperienced, but with Alex's guidance, fishing was slowly but surely becoming second nature to her. There was the occasional loose knot and missing bait and Kara often beat herself up over her mistakes, careless or otherwise. Alex always had to remind Kara that it was okay; that it wasn't a big deal and that she's still learning. Mistakes were expected and inevitable.

Then Kara would respond with something concerning her "doing her part" and "being a burden" for Alex. Sometimes, Alex saw red eyes prickling with tears. She stole away her tears when she thought Alex wasn't looking, making sure to dry them as soon as they fell. There was a time and a place. She could manage to not fall apart until nightfall.

And after Alex had reassured Kara that she was doing a great job, the blonde threw herself back into her work with a feverish intensity and renewed vigor. Alex elected to keep quiet in those moments, better to let the fire burn and rage on. She couldn't think of the right words to say. Or any words to say. So they went on, working in silence, each doing their part in a melodious duet, falling perfectly in line with one another.

Alex moored the boat back into the docks with dinner plans in mind. They were running low on groceries. Alex wasn't a light eater by any means, she'll scarf down a large pizza on her own if she was starving, but she couldn't even hold a candle to Kara when it came to appetite. Boy, can that girl eat! Or better yet, what can't she eat?

Instead of shopping and cooking for two like she expected to, Alex now cooked for four or maybe even five if Kara worked up a significant appetite on the boat during the day. In truth, Alex was getting worried if their fishing production could keep up with their expenses on food. However, all her worries dissipated when she saw Kara's face light up with delight whenever she was presented with heaping platters.

Setting her keys and jacket on the dining room table, Alex peered through the contents of the fridge…there wasn't much, maybe just enough to feed both of them for tonight and tomorrow. A trip to the grocery store was in order, but for now, this would do.

Alex grabbed some onions and tomatoes and set about prepping for their meal. A photo of the two of them smiling together, side by side, with ice creams in hand popped up on her phone. Alex hastily washed her hands, dried them off, and answered the call.

"Hey Kara, did you pick up the lines and nets yet?" She asked, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

"Alex," Kara was noticeably out of breath. Her voice was scraggly yet grave. Alex furrowed her eyebrows in anticipation of what this could mean. "I think they found me."

The redhead leapt off the counter. "Are you okay? Are you still in Metropolis?" Alex could hear shouting and the deafening cacophony of car horns in the background. Kara was still breathing hard.

"I'm okay. For—" Then a crash, some flurry of objects clattering on the floor. "For now." Several pops. Those were unmistakable.

Gunshots.

"Listen, Alex. I don't think I have much time. I just wanted to thank you. For everything."

"Kara? Stay there, okay? I'm coming to get you." She lunged for her car keys and coat, rushing for the door while not bothering to even put her shoes on correctly.

"No! Alex, please don't come looking for me." The gunshots only increased in frequency. And volume. "You need to stay safe. Just," Kara hesitated for a beat. "Thank you. Bye, Alex."

And the line went dead.

* * *

 **Two months earlier**

"Gosh, Alex. There's so much to order! How do I just pick one?" Kara asked, her face buried in the diner's menu. Her nose was scrunched up as she focused entirely on her dinner choice. It was as if she was asked to choose her favorite child. She couldn't possibly decide.

"Order as much as you want, Kara." Alex chuckled to herself. She had never seen someone agonize over food like the blonde who sat across from her. At Alex's approval, Kara's face brightened immensely, shooting Alex a brilliant smile. She was sure that she'd heard a squeal coming from the blonde while she reconsidered her order.

"The roast beef sounds good…So does the burger…Can't go wrong with pancakes either…" Alex heard Kara murmur to no one in particular. When the waitress came to take their order, the poor girl stood there wide-eyed at how much food Kara was ordering. Her pen barely kept up with Kara's rapid-fire barrage of dishes. When she finished, the waitress looked on expectantly, waiting for the avalanche continue.

"And that's it!" Kara concluded with as much energy she could possibly muster.

The waitress shot Alex an uncertain look, making sure that the redhead was okay with all the food they had ordered. More importantly, if she could pay for it. Alex nodded knowingly and handed her the menus. She then turned to Kara.

"Hey, Kara. Do you want dessert too?"

Yes. Always yes.

 _Darkness. It was the first thing she noticed. Her world was covered in it, barring a few dots of light. It must be the night sky, she mused. The stars are so pretty this time of year._

 _A motion to her right interrupted her thoughts, shaking her out of her reverie. She squinted to make out its identity, and found the unmistakable shape of a fin._

 _Not the night sky._

 _But water._

 _In her surprise, she gasped for air, inhaling copious amounts of water in the process. She coughed in a futile attempt to rid the water that burned her lungs with an unbearable flame. It only succeeded in letting more in._

 _She thrashed about, desperately trying to cling on to whatever she could find. She wasn't thinking, all remnants of her training abandoning her when she needed it most. Every second that passed, her lungs begged for mercy, pleading with her, but to no avail._

 _The stars she saw began to dim, one by one. Her vision verged on complete darkness._

 _It would be so easy…_

 _She inched towards unconsciousness, sleep's seductive voice calling out to her like a siren. She had to fight it. She had to._

 _She had to for…_

 _For what? For whom?_

 _She didn't know._

 _Despite her best efforts, her body sank rapidly to the depths of the ocean, as if she had an anchor tied to her feet. Her hands shot out, grasping at nothing but water. She couldn't help herself; it was so easy to fall, to let go._

 _As the last star lost its light, the only thing she could she could hear was her own voice, echoing for no one to hear but herself._

 _It's not fair._

 _It's not fair._

 _It's not fair._

Kara woke to the panicked sound of Alex's voice.

"Kara? Kara!" She was sweating profusely; evident by the way her pajamas and sheets clung to her skin. Her breathing was shallow. She was taking in air at twice the normal tempo. Without realizing it, her hands were shaking as violently as a leaf barely hanging on to the branch in the fierce winds of autumn.

Alex's words were muffled, hardly registering to Kara. Her own heartbeat was too loud, pounding an erratic rhythm against her ribcage. She could hear her own blood coursing through her veins. Feel the electrical pulses of her brain.

 _Too much._

It was all too much.

She kept her eyes clamped shut, drew her knees close to her chest, and covered her ears with her trembling hands. By pressing them against her ears, Kara stopped their shaking for the most part, except for the occasional spasm.

"Kara? I know it's hard, but I need you to look at me. Can you open your eyes for me, Kara?" Alex gently asked.

She gave her host a faint nod and slowly opened her eyes, taking in the world piece by piece. Alex was seated cross-legged across from her. Her brown eyes stared intently into Kara's cerulean.

"Focus on me, okay?" Her voice was light yet carried all the gravitas she normally commanded. It was reassuring, in a way. "I want you to take deep breaths. In for four seconds and out for four. Can you try that?"

Kara's breath was ragged, spilling out in a frantic staccato.

"That's it, Kara. Just like that. Keep going, in and out. In and out." Alex made an effort to demonstrate the procedure with her, keeping cadence with Kara's speed. Over time, her breathing returned to a more regular pattern and Kara could hear— _no feel_ —it all fading away. She kept her focus on Alex's face, not risking breaking eye contact for a fear of aggravating what had just passed.

When most of the symptoms had subsided, Alex reached out and gingerly wiped tears off of Kara's face that she didn't even know had fallen. Alex wrapped the younger girl in a tight hug and Kara reciprocated with the same ferocity, not daring to let go. She let the rest of her tears fall then.

"Why can't I remember anything?" Kara sniffled into Alex's shirt.

"I don't know, kid. I don't know." She rubbed soothing circles on the girl's back.

"Oh god," she choked out.

"You're going to be all right, Kara. You're safe here. I got you."

* * *

 **Present day**

Lena Luthor was having a great day. Well, great for her standards. While most people would consider getting a raise or watching their favorite sports team win qualities of a great day, Lena rated her days based on how often she encountered her mother at work. And now, with her chair reclined back and her private plane due to take off any minute for Europe, she couldn't be more pleased with how the day had played out so far. It might even be the best day she's had in weeks.

Her mother was insufferable anywhere, but she shined especially at work. If it could be possible, Lillian was a notch more condescending, a tad more disapproving, a bit more strict, another level of stubbornness. They had gotten into a particularly nasty fight just hours before, so Lena had taken upon herself to take a well-earned vacation to another continent. Miles and miles away from her devil of a mother.

Oh, her mother would be furious once she finds out, but that's a problem for another day. Right now, Lena was perfectly content with a glass of sparkling water and long nap on cushioned leather seats. Not to mention the dinner reservation that was waiting for her on the banks of the Seine river. Things, for once in her admittedly tragic life, were good.

Lena was halfway towards dozing off, thanks to the surprisingly relaxing drone of the turbines, when she heard the commotion outside. She peered open her window and peaked out to the tarmac. A lone figure was yelling at the flight crew, waving her arms around like a madman. The crew members, bewildered, took cautious steps back, letting whoever it was carry on for their own safety. The figure disappeared from view as they climbed up the stairs and backed into the entrance.

Lena was startled, to say the least. She jumped up on her feet and held the glass of sparkling water in one hand, primed for action. She had never taken self-defense classes before, but she desperately wished she hadn't skipped those classes her mother had scheduled for her.

When the figure came into view, reappearing in the aisle of the plane, facing Lena, she nearly dropped her weapon of choice.

It was a blonde girl, not much older than she is, with disheveled hair and clothes to match. Her jacket had holes and rips in various places. She grasped her own right shoulder with her left hand and held a pistol trained on Lena with her right. Her hand wavered slightly, but her steel gaze pierced.

"Tell your pilot that we're leaving now." She barked, her teeth clenched in pain.

Lena sighed.

She knew this day was too good to be true.

* * *

 **A/N: Come yell and freak out with me on tumblr: window-raindrops**


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